


I Wish You Were Sober

by stillmumu



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, High School, House Party, Mutual Pining, Pining, Teen Romance, Teen Years, crygi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillmumu/pseuds/stillmumu
Summary: Gigi just wants Crystal to kiss her- even when she's sober.
Relationships: Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	I Wish You Were Sober

Gigi clenches her jaw, tightening her grip on the red solo cup in her left hand. The red plastic crushes in on itself with a loud crunch, a split opening and leaking beer all over her.

“Shit!” Gigi drops the cup as fast as she can. The liquid splatters onto the carpet, pooling around her feet.

Gigi takes a few steps to the left, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. Nicky, the hostess of this particular bash, isn’t even paying attention, and Gigi sends up a silent prayer for that small mercy. Thank god everybody’s too occupied with grinding on each other as a sad excuse for dancing, or playing beer pong, or smoking joints in the kitchen to have noticed her spill.

Speaking of smoking joints, Crystal’s currently doing just that, blowing smoke out of her cherry red lips and flirting blatantly with the quarterback. 

Crystal tilts her head back and laughs throatily, batting her lashes at the football player. She tosses a handful of crimped hair over her shoulder, tugging at the neckline of her dress to show more skin. The sight makes Gigi bite down on her tongue, another flash of anger shooting through her.

The cycle is always the same.

Gigi shows up to a party she doesn’t want to be at, Crystal in tow. Crystal makes a beeline for the drinks and the weed, hanging around the football team for the entire night. She usually ends up dancing on the quarterback, an obnoxious dick that'll peak in high school.

Gigi always watches her flirt from the corner of the room. She’s left alone to glare at the back of Crystal’s platinum blonde head, watching while the other girl gets progressively more and more clingy with people that aren’t her.

Afterwards, when Crystal is ready to leave, Gigi will drive her home, and Crystal will kiss her in the car, pressed uncomfortably against the window, or wedged between the door and the driver’s seat. She’ll climb into Gigi’s lap, fingers tangled in her hair, and tell her she’s pretty. And Gigi will go along with it, letting Crystal make her little drunken declarations of love, because what else can she do? 

She likes Crystal, so, so much. Hearing Crystal say it back just for a moment gives her a rush of joy so intense it almost makes the next few days worth it. Crystal never admits it in daylight, when she’s sober. But Gigi will take anything she can get. And so, Gigi keeps torturing herself by watching Crystal throw herself at unknown boys throughout the night, because the promise of those lips on her own is too addictive to quit. Even if they taste like tobacco and cheap alcohol every time.

Crystal trades a drink with a boy Gigi recognises from her Chemistry class. Crystal probably doesn’t even know the guy, but that doesn’t stop her from thanking him with a sloppy kiss. 

Gigi gnaws at her lip, aware that she should probably look away, but not being able to. Her hands tug at the flaps of her leather jacket, twisting the material up. Crystal leans in, draping her hands over the boy’s neck. Gigi swallows thickly. 

She suddenly regrets spilling her drink on the ground, because knocking back lukewarm beer sounds like a perfect coping mechanism right now. Crystal turns, pressing her back into his chest, and suddenly the music is too loud. The party is swimming in her vision in all its sweaty, grimy glory. She needs air. Now.

It takes every ounce of strength and self-control that Gigi has to walk to Nicky’s bathroom at a reasonable pace when every fibre of her being is screaming at her to sprint there. 

She slumps against the door as soon as it shuts, sliding down towards the floor. Something bitter and mean swells in her throat. Gigi squeezes her eyes closed, counts to ten over and over until she’s sure her emotions aren’t bubbling right under boiling. It’s the last party of the school year, and Gigi’s alone in the bathroom having a meltdown. If Nicky saw her like this she’d probably call Gigi a loser: and she’d be right. Gigi’s fucked.

Her eyes drift towards the window, a furrow in her brow. She almost laughs at the absurdity of the idea that pops into her brain. Can she crawl out of it?

The last time she tried was when she was twelve, back when Nicky would sneak her in every Friday for the sleepovers the girl used to host. Gigi’s mom never liked the idea of her going to a sleepover (something about already having a bed, and thus, not needing to stay over at someone else’s place,) so they’d used the bathroom window to get Gigi in without waking up Nicky’s parents. When Jackie moved to the neighbourhood in seventh grade, they’d done the same for her. The girls had fit through the small space easily back then.

The idea seems more and more appealing the longer she stays alone in this bathroom. She considers, running her tongue over her teeth. It might be a tight squeeze, but Gigi can probably do it. She tiptoes over, cranking it open experimentally. It gets stuck at around three inches, so Gigi pushes even harder, straining until it finally opens fully. There’s a fine layer of dust settled around the windowsill, and Gigi wipes it off with a square of toilet paper. Other than that, it’s the same as she remembers.

She’s going to do this. Gigi hoists herself up, trying to shimmy her shoulders through the small square. Her jacket restricts her movements, though, and she can’t quite wedge her arms through properly. She lands back onto the bathroom floor with a thump, knocking her elbow against the wall in the fall. 

“Fuck,” Gigi groans, rubbing the sore spot. A bruise will probably show up tomorrow morning, judging from how hard she banged it. 

Okay. New approach.

This time she throws her jacket out the window first, before trying to fit her body sideways through the window. It works, sort of, and Gigi’s left with her head out the window and her left arm pressed to the outside wall. Her hips get lodged, and Gigi tries to twist her body so that she can wiggle loose. It’s painful, the wall digging into her thighs, but she eventually manages to topple into Nicky’s front lawn, right on top of her jacket.

Gigi flops onto her back, breathing hard. The night air is sharp. She gulps it in, trying to recover from what just happened. 

The bass is still pounding through the neighbourhood, leaking through the walls of Nicky’s house, but it’s quieter out here at least, and Gigi can finally hear herself think. It’s so peaceful compared to inside the party that Gigi feels herself getting a tad bit sleepy.

Her text tone brings her out of the daze. Gigi fishes her phone out of her jacket pocket, the screen lighting up to show two unread messages.

_Methhead: geeg where r u_

_do u wanna leave now?_

A groan passes Gigi’s lips. Great. Just when she’s beginning to think clearly, Crystal has to come and muddle it up again. She pinches her phone lazily between her thumb and index finger, letting it dangle upsidedown, above her chest, with the screen right in front of her face. She could just not respond. But Gigi can’t do that to Crystal. How would she even get home without Gigi giving her a ride? So she picks her phone right-side-up again, preparing to text back.

“Geeg?” Crystal’s voice rings out. 

Gigi scrambles to her feet in the general direction of the voice, brushing dirt off of her jeans. Her phone slips out of her hand in her haste, hitting the ground.

“Hey, uh, over here!” Gigi calls, grabbing her phone off the ground.

Crystal turns, trying to locate where Gigi is. She brightens when she spots the redhead, rushing over.

“Hi baby,” Crystal laughs. “You look so pretty.”

Gigi feels a thrill up her spine at the pet name. Crystal links their hands and raises them over her head, motioning like she wants Gigi to give a spin for her. Gigi turns obediently, an awkward smile on her face, trying to swallow her heartbeat as it climbs into her throat. Crystal smells like pine trees and cheap alcohol. Gigi wants to kiss her.

“Why’d you run off on me?” Crystal practically falls into Gigi’s arms as she comes to a stop, looping her hands around Gigi’s waist. 

The action draws Crystal in close, their noses practically brushing. The white around Crystal’s blue eyes has gone red from the weed, and when she huffs a breath out Gigi can smell the earthy scent of it on her tongue. Gigi can hardly breathe, her head buzzing at Crystal’s closeness.

“Uh-”

“I had fun! Did you have fun?” Crystal asks, all cheerful. Gigi bites at her bottom lip, avoiding eye contact. It seems too invasive. She scuffs the bottom of her heels into the dirt instead, relishing in the sound of the mud as it splatters onto the straps of her high heels. “Nicky’s parties are the best.”

“Yeah.” Gigi grits her teeth, forcing a smile. Her voice quavers a bit, and she winces, praying Crystal doesn’t notice.

Lucky for her, Crystal’s oblivious to her feelings, per usual. “It was great, right? Did you see me kissing Damien? He tasted, like, gross. I wanna kiss you instead.”

Gigi stares, spluttering out an incredulous laugh. Crystal has to be kidding. “That usually work for you?”

“Uh, yes?” Crystal tilts her head, doing an impression of a confused puppy. 

Gigi would find it cute, if not for the fact that she’s increasingly feeling like throwing herself off of a cliff, or maybe punching Crystal in the face. Crystal can’t possibly think that everything’s peachy. 

The highlighter that Crystal applied to her collarbones earlier in the night glistens under the moonlight, and Gigi has to close her eyes to avoid tracing the metallic glow with a finger.

“Hello?” Crystal prompts, untangling herself from the other girl. “I asked for a kiss.”

“Right,” Gigi mutters. She runs her tongue along her teeth, trying to find some way to explain why that isn’t a good idea. 

But Crystal is leaning closer, and the pull between them is intoxicating. Her fingertips slide up Gigi’s neck and tangle in Gigi’s glossy auburn curls, and before Gigi can come up with an excuse Crystal’s lips are on hers.

Gigi would be lying if she said it wasn’t thrilling. They fit together perfectly, with practised ease. Crystal knows how to tug on Gigi’s hair just right so that Gigi clutches at her, and knows that when she bites down on Gigi’s bottom lip it’ll make her chest heave and her breaths come heavier.

It’s cruel how good Crystal can play her. Crystal tastes… like Crystal, woodsy and peppery and warm. It’s pathetic how used to it Gigi is by now, how she could pick out Crystal from a crowd of people if she had to, just by the taste of her and the feeling of her and how she’s buried herself deep into Gigi’s bones.

When Crystal pulls away it leaves emptier than she’d like to admit, and there’s anxiety spiking in her gut at the feeling. Gigi’s going to cry tonight, can feel it the same way she knows a fake Birkin from a real one with one glance. The realisation is accented by a drunken giggle that slips from Crystal’s lips. 

Gigi’s eyes stray to the girl’s face. Crystal’s lip gloss has been smeared onto her chin and her bangs are wild. Her appearance makes Gigi’s blood throb with something hot and filthy, and Gigi feels the breath get knocked out of her at the feeling.

“Let’s go.” Gigi snaps, and whirls on her heel. She doesn’t bother checking to see if Crystal’s following her.

The ride is awkward, to say the least. 

Gigi has to dig her acrylics into the steering wheel to focus. Crystal’s smacking her gum in the passenger seat, trying to get rid of the smell on her breath so that her mom doesn’t notice when she gets home. Gigi tries to tune it out, but the sound is grating and she can still hear it with the volume of the radio turned up to an 18.

When Crystal blows a pink bubble with her gum and pops it loudly for the third time, Gigi pulls over, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Can you not?” She doesn’t mean to sound so bitchy, but Crystal’s been getting on her nerves all night and Gigi’s never been a patient person.

“Sorry.” Crystal flushes, fiddling with her hands. She sounds genuinely apologetic, even with the high lacing her voice.

Gigi sneaks a glance at the other girl’s face and immediately wishes she didn’t. Crystal has made herself small, curling her knees up to her chest. She looks childish, face illuminated by the glow of a streetlight shining through the window, and Gigi feels a wave of guilt.

“Fuck, no, sorry.” She eyes Crystal’s folded up form, and sighs. “Here.” 

Gigi shoves a hand in front of Crystal’s face. Crystal just blinks at it, confused. “Huh?”

“Spit,” Gigi says shortly.

“Oh.” Crystal hesitates. 

“C’mon, I don’t have all night. And I don’t want to listen to you chewing the whole ride.” Gigi glares until Crystal follows the instructions. She flings the chewed-up blob out the open window with more force than necessary. It lodges into a crack in the sidewalk next to a bottle cap.

“Litterbug,” Crystal says under her breath. Gigi ignores it.

Gigi flexes her fingers against the rubber cover on her steering wheel, the bright yellow staring back at her mockingly. It doesn’t seem right to start driving again, when the air between her and Crystal has stretched so thin and yet still manages to hang so heavy. She bites her tongue to prevent herself from blurting out an apology in an attempt to dispel the awkwardness. She has nothing to apologize for.

“Um,” Crystal says. “Are we just going to sit here, or are you gonna to drive me home?”

Gigi takes a sharp breath in, like she’s going to say something. The words get lodged in her throat, right under her soft palate. She cranks the car window up again to seal the night air out. The car engine is still humming softly, the only sound breaking up the tension in the air.

“Right, yeah.” She manages finally. Crystal quirks a brow, but Gigi doesn’t bother explaining herself.

Instead, she hovers a heel over the gas pedal, biting at her lip. The unsaid words clump under her tongue, bouncing around in her head.

“Are you mad at me?”

Gigi jerks her head towards the passenger seat where Crystal is sitting, bumping her head on the headrest in the process. 

“Ow. Fuck.”

“Are you?” Crystal asks again. She looks nervous, pouting slightly. Crystal reaches a hand out like she wants to touch Gigi, but pulls it back before she can close the gap. Gigi’s heart skips a beat at the action.

“No,” Gigi lies, turning back to face the front.

“O-kay.” Crystal says, pulling the word into two syllables. A beat. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Gigi says.

“Okay,” Crystal repeats.

Outside, somebody’s car alarm goes off and she jumps, startled. Gigi shifts, fiddling with the zipper on her jacket. Neither one of the girls speaks, the blaring siren filling the silence.

“Do you-” Crystal starts. Gigi winces at the sound of Crystal’s voice cutting through her head. “What did I do?”

Gigi makes a sound low in her throat, strangled. It kind of sounds like a laugh, warped up and bitter. “Have you seen yourself?”

“What?” Crystal says. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gigi just shakes her head, not answering. She turns the radio up, shifting the gear out of park. The car starts onto the road home again. The drive is smooth, but she still feels like throwing up. Crystal is sneaking glances at her when she thinks Gigi isn’t looking. Gigi tries not to look.

She parks the car outside of Crystal’s house and turns the keys to turn the engine off.

“Gigi, don’t,” Crystal heaves a shaky sigh in and out. “Don’t shut me out.”

“Please stop.” Gigi’s tone is clipped, her sentence punctuated by the slam of her closing the car door.

“Gigi, I can’t read your mind! I don’t know what’s wrong,” Crystal’s voice gets louder, and she moves to block Gigi’s way when Gigi tries to sidestep around her to get to her porch.

“That’s exactly the fucking point,” Gigi huffs.

"You're being unreasonable."

Gigi's already resigned herself to giving Crystal vague answers until she gets bored and leaves her alone. But when Crystal spits the statement, her pride boils over, because how dare Crystal say that? 

How dare she act naive and unaware when she practically throws herself at Gigi every time alcohol enters her system? What's Gigi supposed to do, not catch feelings? Especially when Crystal looks like that, all olive skin and red lips and gorgeous bone structure.

And Crystal just acts like everything's perfectly fine the next day, every time. She always leaves Gigi thinking of the feeling of Crystal's lips pressed against Gigi's, or her weight on Gigi's lap, or her hands knotted into Gigi's hair. It's not fair. It's never fair with them two, and that's the problem. Gigi’s in love with her. And Crystal couldn’t care less.

Gigi doesn't realize she's talking out loud until she stops to take a breath. She freezes, panic swirling up from her bones. 

Her head gets dizzier and dizzier the longer Crystal stays silent.

"Crys-" She starts. Crystal cuts her off.

"How long?" Crystal whispers. It's still too loud in the silence that blankets them.

When Gigi doesn't respond, Crystal repeats herself, voice a little more frantic this time.

"Gigi, I need to know." Crystal takes a sharp breath in. "How long have you liked me?"

Gigi swallows. Prays for the ground to swallow her up. But Crystal's gaze is unwavering, and she has nowhere to run.

"Since the eighth grade," Gigi admits. Crystal makes some kind of shocked noise, but Gigi plows on anyway. If she stops, she might never get the courage to say this again.

"You- you gave yourself a mullet in the school bathroom during Biology, remember? That was the first time I’d ever skipped a class. You were so confident about it. And I was-" Gigi interrupts herself with a bitter laugh. "-I knew that was it. I was so fucking gone."

"Oh," Crystal says. She blinks. "Oh."

This is... Not how Gigi dreamed this would go, to say the least.

On the rare nights she stayed up at 2am listening to love songs and allowed herself to dream of maybe someday telling Crystal she liked her, "oh" was not what she imagined Crystal saying back. And Gigi isn't a dreamer. She prides herself thinking logically through her problems. She trusts her head more than her heart, and it's no wonder, given the shit her heart has put her through. 

So she isn't expecting an elaborate profession of love, or a monologue out of Romeo and Juliet. Just something with a little more substance. Fuck, even Crystal freaking out and not wanting to ever talk to Gigi again would be better than "oh." She just needs something.

"Crystal, I'm sorry, I-" Gigi says. She trails off when Crystal shows no sign of hearing her. Gigi pulls her jacket tighter around herself. "You should go in, it's cold."

Crystal doesn't move. Gigi can't quite make out Crystal's features in the evening light. Her face has blended into shapes and shadows, blurring at the edges.

"Are you crying?" Crystal asks.

Oh. So that's why everything's gone fuzzy. 

"No," Gigi sniffles. She forces a strained smile, just barely managing to lift the corners of her mouth. Her throat feels swollen, and it hurts when she speaks. "I’m fine. Fuck, sorry. I don't know why I said all that."

"Gigi,” Crystal says. Her voice is gentle, like she’s talking to a toddler. “Do you regret saying it?”

This is it. Crystal is giving Gigi a chance to take back a shred of dignity, to salvage whatever is left of their friendship.

“I- no, I don’t,” Gigi says, and that chance is gone. She shoves her hands into her jacket pockets to hide the shaking, balling them into fists. The inner lining bunches up under her grip.

“Okay,” Crystal says. She shakes her head lightly, like she’s trying to clear it. “Okay then.”

Gigi kicks the grass underneath her feet. The lawn is wet, dewdrops wetting her ankles. There’s dirt between her toes and clinging to the bottom of her foot.

There’s a ping, and Crystal fishes her phone out of her pocket. The blue light of the screen lights up her face and she squints at it. 

“My mom’s asking where I am,” She reports. “I should- uh, I should go in.”

“Right.” Gigi clears her throat to give herself something to do. “Yeah. Okay. Night, Crystal.”

“G’night,” Crystal echoes. She doesn’t move. Gigi feels a fresh wave of tears burning against her eyelids. She tenses her tongue, pressing it against the roof of her mouth with surprising strength in a bid to keep them back. When that doesn’t work, she takes off. 

Gigi turns, walking as fast as she can down the block, away from Crystal, until she’s full on running, fishing her car keys out of her pocket with shaking hands. Her blood is pounding in her ears, and she can’t see straight. Everything looks like it’s being viewed through a fish-eye lens, all disfigured. She feels for the door handle blindly and wrenches it open, clumsily getting in.

There. Now she’s alone. Crystal can’t see her anymore. 

Gigi grinds the heels of her palms into her eyes, struggling to catch her breath. Bile rises in her throat, and she gasps for air, trying to blink clarity into her vision. Gigi coughs, hands flailing randomly around for something to grip onto. Her elbow hits the horn and the sound just makes her head even dizzier, the ringing in her ears chaotic. 

Fuck. Why did she have to go and admit her feelings to Crystal? Gigi should have just kept her mouth shut like she always did before. The tears are still coming hot and fast, and the stickiness on her cheeks just makes her even angrier. God, she’s pathetic.

A rapping on the window breaks up her pity party. 

Gigi raises bleary eyes to the sound. To her horror, it’s Crystal on the other side of the glass, motioning impatiently for Gigi to roll down the window. Gigi sucks an unsteady breath in. It’s staccato and comes in short bursts, like she’s just run a mile. Panic claws at her insides and Gigi sputters out a hysteric giggle. 

She opens the window, fingers shaking against the button. 

Gigi wants to spit out an excuse, explain away why she hasn’t driven away and is instead sitting in her car bawling her eyes out like some kind of loser, but she can barely catch her breath, much less form words in this state.

“Gigi, are you- are you okay?” Crystal asks anxiously. “You uh, you ran off before I could say anything else.” 

Gigi makes some kind of miserable noise. Her finger is still on the button to roll down the window, even though it’s already all the way lowered, and her car beeps in protest.

“Look, I-” Crystal starts. She seems to do some kind of calculation, before blurting out the rest of the sentence. “I’m really sorry.”

Gigi’s drowning. There’s ice water in her veins, a chorus of _I-told-you-so_ and _you’ve-ruined-everything_ crashing against her skull. She pushes air out of her nose forcibly, something like a laugh but not quite.

“I was really scared, okay? And I still am. I’m still trying to figure all this out, liking girls and shit.” Crystal clears her throat, shifting nervously on her feet. “I thought you were, I don’t know, just interested in kissing me. Nothing more.”

A mean, petty part of Gigi wants to drive away right now, to not give Crystal the time to explain. But the softer part, the part that’s still stupidly heart-eyed for Crystal wants to stay. It wants to hug Crystal, pull her in and tell her it’s all fine. 

Gigi digs her fingernails into her palm and ignores both of those thoughts.

Crystal is a big girl. Gigi’s not going to clean up her messes for her, especially not when they’ll just make the ache in her chest even more painful. She’s done that too much lately. At the same time, Gigi does owe Crystal the chance to talk her feelings out. Especially given how she dumped all hers onto the girl earlier.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Crystal says. She gestures vaguely with her hands. “I didn’t mean to.”

Gigi opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Crystal reworks her words, stumbling over them.

“Or- or maybe I meant to, in this, like, fucked up way. I don’t know.”

Gigi blinks.

“Maybe I was trying to hurt you and push you away because I liked you, yeah?”

“Are you asking me if you like me?” Gigi murmurs, eyes trained expectantly on Crystal’s face. Nothing feels real. She taps her fingers against her thigh just to do something with her hands. “I can’t answer that for you, hun.”

Crystal seems to start at that. She shakes it off with a slightly giddy giggle, more breath than sound. It sits in the distance between them, swirling. Gigi thinks if she raises her hand she might be able to capture it in her fist, unfurl her palm to see the sound glittering against her flesh.

“Right. Sorry, I don’t know how to, uh, do this good.” Crystal amends. She pulls a shaky breath and expels it again. “I- fuck, this looked easier in the movies.” 

Gigi’s lips quirk slightly. Crystal doesn’t know if it’s in amusement or something else, but she takes it as a sign to keep going.

“I care about you a lot, Gigi.” Crystal makes like she’s going to grab Gigi’s hand but thinks better of it, resting her arm on the trim seal instead. “Not- not just as a friend. I really, I don’t want to fuck our friendship up if I do something really stupid. This probably won’t work, you know?”

Gigi stares dumbly, huffing a breath. Crystal avoids her gaze, clicks her tongue once as if making a decision. It feels like an eternity has passed in silence before she fixes her gaze on Gigi’s face again, with so much intensity Gigi shivers.

“I would like to try, though?” Crystal says. Her voice cracks on the last word, and she runs a hand through her hair, twirling the strands between her fingers like she always does when she’s stressed.

“I’d- like that,” Gigi swallows, trying to keep the excited tremor out of her voice when she responds. Her words come out choppy and blunt. “If you’re sure.”

Crystal grabs her instead of answering. 

Gigi hits her head on the car frame, and Crystal’s hands tangle into her hair. The kiss is clumsy, their foreheads knocking. She wouldn’t have it any other way. Gigi is straining to lean out the window, the metal of the car door digging into her ribs. Crystal’s teeth sink into her lip and she hisses, pulls Crystal even closer against the cool steel in retaliation, trying to close the gap.

When they part, it's only because Gigi needs to breathe. Her entire body is thrumming like it might combust.

“Do you- was that okay? For you?” Crystal asks sheepishly. She wipes the corners of her lips, cleaning up the smudges.

“Okay? Fuck, Crystal, I’ve been dreaming of that since forever,” Gigi admits, breathless. “Are you sure?”

“You keep saying that.” Crystal offers her a lopsided grin. “Don’t ask me again, I might chicken out.”

“Oh my god,” Gigi laughs, relief swimming in her gut. Adrenaline buzzes up her spine, making her dizzy. “Oh my god, you suck. Shut up.”

“Just get out of the car,” Crystal shakes her head, biting back a smile. She slaps the roof of the car. “I wanna kiss you some more.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Crystal scurries backwards so that Gigi has enough room to open the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk. 

Under the artificial lights, Crystal looks messy, skin tinted yellow. The lighting makes the pinks of her blush clownish and the dips of her contour into unforgiving brown streaks. Her foundation is cakey on her forehead from wearing it all night, mascara muddy around her eyes. Gigi thinks this is the most beautiful she’s ever looked.

“Stay the night?” Crystal suggests.

“As long as you won’t ignore me in the morning.” Gigi teases, because she doesn’t trust herself not to accept the offer embarrassingly fast otherwise. 

Crystal just rolls her eyes. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” Gigi says proudly. “Can I steal snacks from your pantry? I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, but that’s cause you were too busy glaring at me halfway across the room to eat at the party,” Crystal says. 

Gigi just hums. Part of her is relieved at how normal this all is. Part of her knows she shouldn’t even be surprised. They’ve always been Crystal and Gigi, and a few kisses aren’t going to change that.

Her lungs feel like they’re full of glitter, and she taps Crystal’s chin, signaling for a kiss. Crystal’s tongue tastes like stale liquor and Gigi feels drunk off of it, the feeling of Crystal so close to her and knowing that Crystal won’t run this time. Knowing that Crystal is hers. She’s been waiting five years for this and regrets nothing. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Crystal links her arm with Gigi’s easily, their shoulders bumping.

“Nothing,” Gigi answers simply. “This was a good start to summer.”

“Yeah,” Crystal agrees, in that way of hers where she doesn’t say much but says everything all at once. “It was.”


End file.
